


twenty dollar nosebleed (i'm sick, and i'm tired too)

by iljinhansol



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Horror, Drug Dealing, Gang Violence, Gangs, Gore, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Heavy Blood & Violence, Insanity, organ harvesting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:45:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10074923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iljinhansol/pseuds/iljinhansol
Summary: love the mayhem more than the love (or, chan finds that when it comes to families, blood will always run thicker than water.)





	

Seungcheol throws his hip into the door and holds it open, letting Chan inside first. The younger boy is greeted by eleven sets of eyes he's never seen before. It's like they were sitting there waiting for the eldest (secretly, Junghan actually is). Seungcheol's eyes burn into the back of the shorter male's head.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Introduce yourself, little shit."

Chan bitterly purses his lips. "Chan."

"How cute," Mingyu sneers, "No one would ever suspect a kid like that here."

Chan seems to be taken aback by the comment. He'll remember that the next time the tall blonde asks for something. The youngest defends himself by pointing at one of the boys on the ground, spooning vegetables onto his plate. He's got pudgy cheeks and innocent eyes.

"What about him?" Chan spits.

"Me?" He's shocked, whatever his name is.

"Maybe you and Seungkwan can be friends then," Mingyu laughs, elbowing the emotionless man next to him. "Wonwoo," he whispers, "Laugh at my joke. He's not gonna take me seriously."

Wonwoo remains silent.

There's an uneasy moment of silence when Seungcheol leaves the room. No one asks Chan any questions, but there is a boy who pats the open seat next to him on the ground. This is Chan's first friend here, Hansol. He tosses Chan an empty plate and tells him to dish up as much as he wants before Junghan eats it all. Hansol points to Junghan, the black haired beauty.

"Don't mess with him... Or Seungcheol," Hansol murmurs as he leans close to the younger. Chan can't help but stare at Junghan now. He looks pure. If anyone says pure, Chan will picture Junghan from now on. With his bangs tucked behind his ear and his cheeks full of noodles. Pure.

Seungcheol returns to the room and takes his seat next to Junghan, who covers his mouth when he smiles at the elder. There's something going on there, Chan notes. He needs to write all of this down.  _ Don't help Mingyu in need  _ and  _ Junghan and Seungcheol are definitely fucking. _

Hansol often smacks Seungkwan on the back of his head if he catches the elder giving dirty looks to Chan. Seungkwan overreacts and tries to stab his fork into Hansol's arm and tells him to respect his elders, in which Hansol replies by reminding him that he's only a month older. Seungcheol splits the two up and makes Chan sit between Seungkwan and someone new. Hansol is relocated to the open seat next to the eldest.

"He's not here for a friend, Hansol."

Hansol wants to fire back about Seungcheol's relationship with Junghan, but swallows his words with a shot of vodka. Which surprises Chan, who still watches him from across the table. He turns to the other person next to him. He doesn't look as nice as Hansol, but it's a step up from talking to Seungkwan.

"How old is he?" Chan gestures towards Hansol, downing his second shot.

"Eighteen, why? You want something to drink?"

Chan clears his throat, as if that would make him appear older. "What do you guys have?"

And this man starts listing so much alcohol, Chan thinks he's drunk already.

"Anything," Chan cuts in.

Seokmin spins a few bottles around, trying to find his favorite bottle of Belvedere. He grabs an empty shot glass tipped over on the table and fills it to the brim.

"Be careful," Seokmin passes the glass off to the younger and raises his eyebrows.

Chan swallows the shot painfully, but shakes it off. His body already feels the sensation; Belvedere probably wasn't a good choice for a first time drinker.

"Whoa, Chan," Seungcheol's voice cuts through the room. "Seokmin, what'd you give him?" The eldest isn't even upset, he's laughing. Which, unless he's alone with Junghan, is quite rare.

"Just some of my Belvedere." Seokmin holds the bottle up like it's the only thing he cherishes anymore.

"Okay, you alcoholic. Get him some bread or something." Seungcheol waves his hand in Seokmin's general direction and turns back to Junghan.

Chan whispers that he's fine and he'll take another shot. His voice is rough, but Seokmin doesn't decline. Chan secretly takes the shot when Seungcheol gets lost in Junghan's story. He hisses as his throat burns again. Seokmin pats the youngest on the back.

"There, there. You'll get used to it one day. Want another?"

Chan's head hangs low, but it doesn't stop him from handing his shot glass back to Seokmin.

"Atta' boy," The elder praises. As soon as he finishes pouring the shot, Mingyu uses his free hand to grab the bottle from Seokmin beside him. The other is preoccupied by his freshly lit cigarette.

"Seungcheol literally just said get him bread, not two more shots. He's gonna go into liver failure." He blows his smoke upwards.

"Right here, right now, at the dinner table?" Seokmin cocks a brow. "This is like you explaining why Minghao doesn't smoke."

“Minghao doesn’t smoke,” Mingyu leans forward so he can talk to Chan. “He says it upsets his stomach, but I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“I-... Are you serious?” Minghao interjects from across the table.

“What? Are you eating the cigarette?”

Minghao’s mouth hangs open as if he’s going to protest again, but closes it shortly after. He’s already done with this conversation.

Seokmin cups his hand around Chan's ear, "Mingyu dropped out of high school freshman year, so we cut him some slack sometimes."

Chan lets out a small 'ah' and throws back the third and final shot. His body feels fuzzy now. Seokmin feels bad. Chan looks miserable, between the constant hiccuping that could be potential vomit and the swaying back and forth, Seokmin can't tell what's worse.

"Chan has to drink with the lightweights now," Junhui comments.

"Aren't you the king of the lightweights?" Seokmin jokes.

"Okay, but am I on a first name basis with the cops that bring me home when I'm too drunk to walk?"

"I separated Hansol and the Seungkwan, do I need to separate you two, too?" Seungcheol's voice is always three times louder than everyone else's. Everyone's conversations fall silent. The eldest never says anything twice. There's something more to that threat, and Chan would question it, but no one seems to notice the youngest is passed out with his face planted in the table.

 

Chan can distinctly hear footsteps pounding down the hall. It's what wakes him at three in the morning. The youngest tries to ignore them and go back to sleep. But where is he even sleeping? It's comfy, so he doesn't stir again. Not until the apartment door swings open and someone stands hunched over in the doorway. That's when Chan shoots up, disoriented, but still scared shitless. He rubs his eyes and watches the figure heaving twenty feet away. Whoever it is catches their breath, and shuts the door behind them. They flick the light on and immediately turn them back off when they notice Chan on the couch. He was at dinner, the man that scared Chan out of his drunken sleep. So he's not too frightened anymore, but he does have a few questions.

"What was your name again, kid?"

"Chan," his voice still hoarse from the alcohol.

"Okay, kid." The male takes a deep breath in and collects himself. "Help me out with this. I'm turning the light back on."

Chan stretches his legs out and flinches when the lights flick on. He meets the other by the door and crouches down to his level. Someone opens one of the bedroom doors and drags their feet out into the foyer.

"Jisoo, you're late." Seungcheol's voice is still loud despite it being three in the morning .

"Well," Jisoo stands up and unzips his jacket. Six bags of tightly packed cocaine fall to the ground. Chan tries to catch them but looks like an idiot as they all miss his grasp. Thankfully, Jisoo and Seungcheol are too busy starting fires in each other's eyes to notice.

When Chan finally looks up at Jisoo, he immediately kicks himself away from the elder. His entire shirt is coated in a thick layer of blood. Now that the jacket is unzipped, Chan can clearly see the specks of blood flicked on Jisoo's neck. Seungcheol doesn't seem to be worried, so why should Chan?

"Your shirt..." Chan murmurs.

"What?" The tension is instantly cut. Jisoo looks at the younger, and then his shirt. "Oh, kid. It's not mine." And that's the end of that. Jisoo snaps his fingers in Chan's face and tosses a few of the bags on the floor into his arms. "Here, help me get these to Seungcheol's room."

Chan wants to question why the two are so aggressive towards each other but he can feel the sensation of Seungcheol's eyes burning into the back of his head. Seungcheol pushes by the two and unlocks his bedroom door. He turns and locks onto the youngest.

"Under no circumstances should you ever come in here."

So when Jisoo and Seungcheol enter the room Chan stands in the doorway behind them. He awkwardly  stares down at the two tightly sealed bags cradled in his arms.

"I meant on your own, idiot. Get in here," Seungcheol barks, giving Chan a mental kick in the head.

The eldest flicks the light on and the blankets on his bed suddenly begin to move. Chan acts like he's not watching, but he can clearly see Junghan's bedhead trying to hide from the light.

"Go back to bed, Junghan," Seungcheol coos. A complete 180 from his tone with Jisoo.

Jisoo throws his bags down on the bed, completely disregarding Junghan under the covers. He makes his way across the room to the closet and slides the doors open. To Chan, it looks like a normal closet. More suits than his liking, but that's just Seungcheol. Jisoo groans as he steps in the space and pushes all of the clothes to the side, revealing a safe in the wall.

"Okay, kid. Hand em' over."

"Chan,” Seungcheol spits, "His name isn't kid."

Jisoo sticks his head out of the closet and smiles kindly at the youngest, "Do you have a problem with me calling you kid, kid?"

Chan thinks the question is laced with a threat, so as he grabs a bag of coke, he rapidly shakes his head, handing the bag off to Jisoo. The rest of the packing is done in silence. Seungcheol sees the two out of his room and locks the door after them.

"So, you-"

"We don't get along." Jisoo stops at the end of the hallway. "I'm here to do his dirty work because he's too big of a bitch to do it himself. Ever since Junghan started to sleep in his room, he's been a big, soft, asshole."

"Can you even be a softy and an asshole at the same time?"

"You saw him, barking orders to you and then all lovey dovey with Junghan?"

Chan looks down. Jisoo's right.

"You've met Hansol. Stick close with me and him. We'll keep you safe."

Chan smiles at the ground for a second, Jisoo turns around to make sure he's still got the younger’s attention and it wipes the smile clear off his face.

"Got it, kid?"

"Yeah," Chan breathes.

"Get some rest, tomorrow’s a big day."

Chan doesn't want to know what that means. He wasn't informed of anything going on. He wants to ask what Jisoo means, but he's already stripping off his soiled clothing and shutting the bathroom door behind him.

 

When Chan wakes up the second time that day, there's someone sitting on the table next to him. His hands are clasped in front of his face as if he's been inspecting Chan's body for some time now. Chan blinks a few times in his direction and knits his brows together.

"Good morning." He stretches out 'morning' a bit too long, but his tone is kind. 

"Soonyoung," He introduces himself and extends his hand. Chan goes in for a handshake but the elder quickly turns it into some sort of secret slapping game he's never seen before. Soonyoung doesn't say anything after that. He keeps his grip on Chan's hand and uses his free one to grab a pistol from the table. He slaps it down on Chan's open palm and releases his grip from his wrist.

"This is yours, bud. Have you ever shot one before?" He's a little too happy to be talking about guns.

"I- uhm," Chan sits up and looks at the gun from every angle. "No."

"That's what I'm here for." He smiles brightly and snickers. "Now, you'll probably stay here tonight, but don't worry, Junghan stays here too." There it goes again. Someone knowing plans Chan doesn't.

"What exactly is happening tonight? Jisoo mentioned something about it yesterday, but I didn't get the chance to ask."

"Seungcheol planned his biggest heist yet. After tonight, we could probably pay people to feed us. Literally. Do you want some hot babe to sit here and hand feed you grapes after tonight? Because we can arrange that."

"If everyone survives, Soonyoung. I have to pay for every mistake you idiots make tonight." Seungcheol is awake and here to ruin the positive energy. He and Junghan don't bat an eyelash at the two on the couch and head towards the kitchen.

"Is that why Junghan stays here?" Chan's voice is barely audible.

"You guessed it." Soonyoung points a finger. “But, Seungcheol doesn’t think Junghan makes mistakes, so it’s technically a double negative.”

At this time, the elder stands up and begins to make his way to the bedroom hallway. Soonyoung takes his gun out from under his belt and points it at the ground. He doesn't even give Chan a warning before firing two blanks.   
"Everyone," He sings loudly, "Wake up."

As Chan folds his blanket and tosses it back on the couch, all nine boys simultaneously exit their rooms, as if Soonyoung's gunshots were their morning alarm. The youngest mentally checks off who he's met and who he hasn't. Hansol flashes him a smile as he heads into the kitchen, but no one else acknowledges him. Chan pulls Soonyoung off to the side after everyone heads to the kitchen table for breakfast.

"Who are all these people?" He sounds bashful now. If anyone thought Chan was rude before, the assumption is far gone.

"Who  _ have _ you met?"

Chan stares at the floor as if the names are scripted there for him. “Hansol and Jisoo, you, Seungcheol, Junghan, Seungkwan, was it? And that guy that poured my shots last night."

"Seokmin."

"Yeah, him."

"So, you haven't met Junhui, Mingyu, Wonwoo, Minghao, or Jihoon."

"No, wait, I've met Mingyu. The assho- the tall one," Chan changing his description, weary of Soonyoung’s reaction.

"He's a sweetheart. Everyone here is a softy. Maybe not Seungcheol so much... Or Wonwoo. I just think Wonwoo hates Mingyu and that's why he's so sour all the time. Mainly because Mingyu won't leave him alone. I think he's secretly crushing on him, but that's just my theory."

Soonyoung pokes his head in the kitchen and turns back to the younger.

"There's a seat open next to Minghao, to his right is Junhui. That's as good of a roll call as you'll get. Jihoon, you'll meet later. He's a special one." He slaps a hand on Chan's shoulder and pulls him into the kitchen.

 

"Seungcheol," Jisoo spits. He hates saying the elder's name. It stings like venom on his tongue. "Last nights haul was thirteen thousand. How much goes into tonight?"

"Ten grand, I guess. Who's going to cash it in today?"

"Minghao. I went last time," Junhui complains like he was dragged here against his will and forced to work.

Seungcheol tosses an empty backpack to Minghao and motions a finger to follow him.

"So," Jisoo claps his hands together, "Who's going tonight?" 

Everyone but Chan and Junghan raises their hand. 

"Chan's not going? What was the point of bringing him here anyway," Wonwoo spits.

And suddenly ten sets of eyes are on him again. Chan's hands curl up in his lap and he drops his head. Wonwoo sits back and sighs, "Exactly."

"Exactly, what? Asshole." It's quiet, and Chan doesn't think anyone hears it, but Wonwoo lurches forward. Chan's eyes close just as tight as his jaw at the moment. Mingyu grabs the elder's shoulders and tries to pull him back.

"Mingyu, let go of me. You fucking heard him."

"He asked a question," Mingyu soothes.

"He called me an asshole, you deaf bitch!" Wonwoo throws his shoulder back and knocks Mingyu's touch off his body. The elder closes the gap between him and Chan. Wonwoo's fingers crack as he grabs a fistful of the younger's hair. Instead of Chan standing up himself and fighting his own fight, Hansol stands up beside him.

"You know you're already not on Seungcheol's good side."

Wonwoo takes a quick glance around the room as if he's pointing out the elder's missing presence, then shrugs at Hansol. Chan is still wincing under his grip, but the elder pays no attention to him. Wonwoo stretches out the fingers of his free hand then immediately balls them into a fist. Mingyu sees it, because he never takes his damn eyes off Wonwoo, but everyone else only sees his hand knock Hansol's nose out of place. He catches himself from falling back on the couch and throws a punch back at the elder, who catches Hansol's wrist before it makes contact.

"Hey," It's three times louder than everyone, it must be Seungcheol. Chan can't tell, Wonwoo still hasn't let go of the death grip on his hair. The eldest is leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed on his stomach. "What are you, eight? Cut it out."

Wonwoo simultaneously releases Hansol's wrist and his grip on Chan's hair, then returns to the empty seat next to Mingyu. Hansol finally falls back between Chan and Jisoo and cups his nose, which is now smeared with blood.

"I can't leave for two seconds with you idiots. I can already tell who's going to die tonight."

Hansol tenses up. Wonwoo remains emotionless.

"Chan, you have a gun, right?" The eldest stares at Soonyoung, but directs his voice at Chan, who was just starting to relax.

He lifts his shirt and shows Seungcheol the pistol shoved under his belt line.

"I taught him well," Soonyoung nudges Hansol. "I didn't even have to tell him that." Hansol clearly isn't interested, seeing as the blood is seeping through the cracks of his fingers and dripping down into his lap.

"Hansol, go get that cleaned up," Seungcheol commands.

 

Mingyu is sitting in Wonwoo's room, staring at the blushing redness of his knuckles. Wonwoo still seems unaffected. Pissed, but physically unaffected. Mingyu keeps silent for once. He just doesn't know what to do with Wonwoo's hand. Not until the elder snaps at him.

"Are you gonna do something about this?"

Mingyu slowly pulls his attention from the hand, to Wonwoo's eyes.

"I... Do you want ice?"

"Painkillers."

"For someone who's constantly fighting, this doesn't seem like something you would need painkillers for."

"Get them." Wonwoo grits his teeth.

Mingyu doesn't move far. Wonwoo expects him to go get them from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, but Mingyu knows the elder keeps a stash in the desk drawer beside him. Wonwoo doesn't question it when the other opens his drawer; he knows Mingyu has some weird freak obsession with him. He pops two in his mouth and swallows them dry.

"So, tonight..."

"What about it?"

"Are you ready?"

"Stop making small talk, Mingyu. What are you in here for?"

It's a common question, so Mingyu isn't offended. Even by the tone it's delivered with. So Mingyu flashes his signature canines and leans over on Wonwoo's desk.

"I dunno. You know I like to be with you every waking moment, don't you?" It's not a joke, but Mingyu laughs anyway. He throws a playful hand on Wonwoo's thigh. Any higher and Wonwoo would question it.

"I wish you didn't," Wonwoo sneers, disregarding the body heat Mingyu's hand radiates. The younger gradually begins to brush his thumb on the fabric of Wonwoo's jeans. It's another action that goes unmentioned by the elder. Mingyu's stomach is in three knots right now. Wonwoo's stomach is incapable of tying these same knots, so he has no clue what Mingyu is doing. Not until Mingyu starts gripping Wonwoo's thigh lightly with a pulsing sensation.

"Stop." Wonwoo continues to avoid eye contact.   
But Mingyu keeps doing it. He even moves his hand ever so slightly towards Wonwoo's groin.

"I'm not fucking you, Mingyu," Wonwoo's stern voice cuts through the silence, making it uncomfortable. To Wonwoo at least. Because after his mouth returns to it's familiar flat line, Mingyu drops from the chair, onto his knees.

"That's fine, I'll do all the work."

And the thing is, Wonwoo isn't going to refuse, but it’s not going to make him hate Mingyu any less than he does now. He just crosses his arm over his chest and leans back into his chair and watches as the younger's lips kisses a trail up his jeans.

When Mingyu's hands fumble around with the button on Wonwoo's jeans, the elder lays his head back and tries not to watch anymore. His imagination is painting a whole new scenario for him. The blonde bombshell from some cheap porno he watched last night is the one currently pulling his jeans down. He's half hard when Mingyu places his lips on the outline of his dick, prominent under his boxers. The elder runs a finger around the shell of Mingyu's ear. It's too gentle of a gesture for Wonwoo, so he quickly cards his fingers through Mingyu's hair and latches onto a fistful of it. The bruises forming on his hand don't hurt when he locks his grip. His knuckles are red no more, they've faded to a chalky white tint. Mingyu briskly folds back the waistband of Wonwoo's briefs, causing him to bare his teeth and hiss. The younger pulls the material down to Wonwoo's ankles and crawls a few inches closer. One hand gently rubs back and forth on the elder's hip while the other grabs a hold of the base of his cock. Mingyu gathers an ample amount of spit in his mouth and kisses Wonwoo's groin. As he drags his kiss to the tip of his dick, he coats it with saliva. The younger twists his wrist up and down Wonwoo's shaft, leaving the head untouched by his hand. Mingyu's tongue darts out and licks the underside of the elder's cock, tracing one of the prominent veins up to the head. He takes it into his mouth, but immediately removes it, teasing the elder. Wonwoo exhales heavily through his nose, keeping his composure. Mingyu's hand picks up the pace before the other uses his free hand to grab onto his wrist.

"I can jack myself off any day, Mingyu." His voice is bleeding passion, but it's missing from his actions. "If you're gonna stroke it, just suck me off."

Mingyu's eyes glisten from between Wonwoo's legs. He hesitates for a second, hand still firm around the elder's shaft. He brushes off the sting and bites his lip. His mouth finds the head of Wonwoo's cock again and he slowly wraps his lips around it. It's too vanilla for Wonwoo. It's only been five seconds and it's already deemed too gentle. So he pulls Mingyu's mouth off of him and stands up. Mingyu raises himself onto his knees to meet him. Wonwoo guides the other's mouth back onto his dick and doesn't stop at his head. Mingyu gags at the unexpected force, but it doesn't bother Wonwoo any. He places his hand flat on Wonwoo's thigh, just for protection. Just so he doesn't push Mingyu too far. But this is what Mingyu wants. Just for Wonwoo to pay attention to him, even if that means throat fucking him with no emotion. Mingyu shuts his eyes and tries to pace his breathing.

"Can I cum in your mouth?"

And it's not like Mingyu can respond, but Wonwoo, lost in lust, doesn't seem to grasp the concept.

"I'm cumming in your mouth, I don't care."

Neither does Mingyu. That's what his mind tells him, but his mind went numb twenty minutes ago, so he's not sure if he trusts it much. So when Wonwoo pushes his groin hard against Mingyu's face and cums in his mouth, Mingyu complies by swallowing. The elder rides out the rest of his orgasm in Mingyu's mouth until there's two blank gunshots outside his door. Mingyu doesn't mean it when his teeth accidentally sink into Wonwoo's dick, he really doesn't. Wonwoo hisses loudly in pain, throwing Mingyu's head back against the desk.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Mingyu," He whispers harshly. Mingyu is trying to recover from the maltreatment that was the past twenty minutes. While the younger is sitting with his head tucked into his legs, someone knocks on the door, presumably Soonyoung. Wonwoo winces as he quickly tries to tuck his dick back into his pants. Soonyoung barges in after there's no response. He eyes Mingyu, rubbing the back of his head, then switches to Wonwoo, who has his back turned to the door as he finishes zipping his jeans.

"Time to go," His tone is one that punctuates a question. "You okay?"

Wonwoo looks over his shoulder, "Yeah I'm fi-"

"Not you."

Mingyu looks up from his lap and hums in response. He stands up and brushes off everything that happened. Soonyoung is caught by surprise when the youngest of the three pushes by him. Wonwoo stares at the other for a few seconds.

"What?"

Soonyoung just walks away.

 

Chan feels a bit nervous when he's sat between Jihoon and Junghan tonight. Seungcheol sits on Junghan's other side, as usual. He slaps his hands together and leans back.

"Junhui, your job tonight?"

"Keep watch."

"Seokmin?"

"I was told assassination." The smile on the end of it is a bit unsettling, but maybe that's just Seokmin's charm.

Chan pinches the skin on his thumb. While Seungcheol goes around the room and asks everyone's roles, the youngest taps Junghan's knee, causing the elder to wrap his hair around the shell of his ear and lean close. Pure, Chan reminds himself. As pure as can be.

"What are you in charge of?"

"Watching you," Junghan smiles, looking Chan in the eye.

The youngest's mouth hangs open slightly. Junghan is a babysitter tonight. He thinks about Wonwoo's question from before; why Chan was ever there in the first place.

Junghan wraps his fingers around Chan's knee, like some sort of comfort mechanism.

Pure.

"Chan, what are you in charge of tonight?" Seungcheol's voice cuts through his concentration on Junghan's fingers. He looks over at the elder, mouth still agape.

Now Chan can't think of what exactly he's in charge of tonight. No one told him anything. Heck, Seungcheol hasn't even told him why he pulled him off the street. But Jisoo saves his ass by interjecting something about drug counts. Something Chan is inexperienced in. Seungcheol shrugs and skips over Junghan.

"Alright, leave."

And all at once, like it's some sort of choreographed military march, everyone leaving stands up and heads to the door. Junghan and Chan watch from the couch. The first few seconds after the door slams shut are spent in silence. It's not awkward, like most silence around here. It's comforting. Chan exhales deeply, and in return, Junghan squeezes his fingers around the younger's knee.

"Seungcheol isn't as bad as he seems. He's a pain in the ass sometimes, but you'll get used to him."

Chan can't seem to look up from Junghan's slender fingers wrapped around his leg, or even respond for that matter.

"He talks about you a lot. Before he brought you here too. He'd always come home and talk about the kid on the street corner."

Chan's eyes don't follow when his head turns to Junghan. They stay fixed on his hand. It's not a verbal response, but Junghan doesn't mind.

"I used to be the kid on the street corner."

That pulls Chan's focus to Junghan's face. The elder meets him with a smile. Junghan finally pulls his hand back into his lap and fixes his position on the couch so he can face Chan fully.

"He would tell me all these things he's planned for you. And then one day ya just showed up." Junghan snickers.

"So what are you really in charge of here?" Chan whispers, but just loud enough so Junghan doesn't have to ask for him to repeat.

"I'm just here, I guess," Junghan shrugs. "Seungcheol won't let me leave. I mean, I haven't tried to, but he makes it clear it's in my best intentions to stay."

Chan purses his lips and curls his hands back up in his lap nervously. "That sounds like a threat..."

"It is one. That's why I'm still here... And, you know, alive." He stands. "Come help me with something."

Chan doesn't ask with what. Junghan doesn't look ill-intentioned, so he puts a little trust into him and follows him to Seungcheol's room, where he pulls out a key and invites the youngest inside. Junghan kneels down on all fours and lifts the blanket off the ground.

"Grab that black case on the right for me."

So Chan joins him on the ground and reaches his arm far under the bed, grabbing onto the handle of said black case. It's heavy, and multiple metal objects shift around in it. Chan can only guess what's metal and stored under Seungcheol's bed. His mind thinks the worst, but Junghan unlatches the locks and pops it open. Stacks on stacks of medical supplies. Sutures, scalpels, scissors, anything you can find in a hospital is all tucked neatly in the case in front of them.

"We're gonna need this tonight." Junghan slaps his hands on his thighs and sighs, closing the box back up. Chan grabs both corners of it and lifts it, immediately regretting doing so. Junghan ushers him out of the room and locks it behind them. Chan drops it on the table, flinching at the sudden noise.

"What now?"   
"Now we wait," Junghan pats the cushion open next to him.

"For how long?"

"You sure do ask a lot of questions," Junghan laughs, softening the blow. "'Bout a hour, maybe hour and a half if they run into issues."

"Like?" Chan doesn't even realize how many questions he's spewing.

Junghan shrugs again, "I mean, there's gonna be shots fired. They're breaking in rival territory. Worst thing possible is death."

"You're so casual about it."

"I'm used to it. You're used to living on the street, aren't you?"

He caught Chan there, in which the younger responds with a crisp silence.

"Scratch that lifestyle, Chan. Act like it never happened."   
"And accept death?"   
"Death happens."

Junghan isn't even arguing. Chan just can't seem to grasp onto how blunt he is about everything.

 

An hour passes by, Junghan is asleep on the couch, and Chan can't stop pacing the bathroom. It's small, but he doesn't have anywhere else to go. He splashes some cold water on his face and slides down the wall until he's sitting flat on the ground. All he can think about is death and suffering and all the blood that's probably painting walls right now. Sure, Chan has a strong stomach, but when it comes to paper cuts and bloody noses. Someone would be lucky to come back with a bloody nose. Because when Seungcheol slams open the front door and starts making a commotion, Chan can only feel his stomach knot three times around the rest of his organs. Through the privacy of the bathroom door, the youngest can hear the medical kit pop open, like Junghan wasn't just snoring lightly on the couch.

Chan leaves the bathroom after he flushes the toilet and runs the sink, to make it seem like he was doing something normal in the bathroom. Not pacing it and avoiding Junghan. He walks in on Seungcheol standing with his arms crossed next to Junghan.

“Where's Seokmin?”

“DOA.”

Junghan raises an eyebrow, “You went to the hospital?”

“He didn't even make it to the start of it all. They got him through the windshield.”

Soonyoung holds up a makeshift gun, consisting of two fingers and his thumb, and makes a shooting motion directly between his eyes.

Jisoo and Minghao drop their bags on the table and fall onto the couch, sighing deeply. Chan counts the boys as they still shuffle through the door. Seokmins dead. And the total headcount is eight boys not counting him and Junghan. Chan’s eyes sift the small crowd for Hansol, who is slumped over Jihoon’s shoulder. He's out cold, covered in blood. There's a trail that drips from the doorway and pools at Jihoon’s feet. Junghan shuffles through the group of boys and pulls the younger off Jihoon's back and Chan can only stare at the shards of glass sticking out of the cuts in his head. Junghan cradles Hansol loosely. The younger's arms are folded sloppily in his lap when Junghan sits him down on the couch opposite of Minghao and Jisoo. His head falls into Junghan's lap, where he starts to sift through the case for tweezers. The only one watching is Chan. This isn't the paper cut amount of blood he expected. Chan can't seem to close his mouth, he turns back to Soonyoung, who puts his hand on the youngest’s shoulder.

“Be happy he wasn't Wonwoo.”

 

After Junghan is finished fishing through Hansol's body for shards of broken glass, Seungcheol pulls the other down to the parking garage. It's obvious which cars are theirs. Two cars parked together, painted with bullet holes. One car is missing from the third parking space saved, presumably Seokmin’s. Seungcheol pops the trunk of his own vehicle and Junghan immediately raises a hand to cup his nose. The thick smell of blood diffuses from the back. Seokmin’s body lays crammed in the trunk, coated in blood, some still dripping from the bullet wound like a leaky faucet.

“You put him in the trunk?”

“Wonwoo’s in the back seat. They got creative with him,” Seungcheol points a V at his eyes. “They're both gone.”

Junghan’s curiosity gets the best of him and forces him to peak in the back seat. Mingyu is curled up on what's left for space.

“Mingyu, too?”

“He's still in there?” Seungcheol knocks his knuckles on the window. “Get up.”

Mingyu hears him, but doesn't move. His head is tucked comfortably under Wonwoo’s chin, right into his chest. He keeps himself from looking at Wonwoo face to face. There's blood dried and crusted on his lashes that still cast dark shadows on his stained cheekbones. Mingyu holds his breath as Seungcheol smashes his fist on the car window again. He holds in the last scent of Wonwoo before he waves a dismissive hand at the elders. He won't cry. Not because Seungcheol is watching, but because he can't. Wonwoo never loved him anyway. And Mingyu can't bring himself to cry over something so little, such as his one sided love for the dead man who is finally holding him in his arms. It's the little things that Mingyu just skips over. So when Seungcheol yanks the car door open and kicks the bottom of Mingyu's shoe, he pulls himself out from under Wonwoo's chin and lays a soft kiss on his bloody lifeless lips. He avoids eye contact with the elders as he makes his way out of the car and back upstairs. He wipes the blood from his lips on the back of his hand, smearing it down his face. Which worries Chan even more as he looks up from Hansol's limp body and sees Mingyu. The elder stands slumped against the doorway, red smeared down his chin. He looks tired. His hooded eyes stay set on the ground as he drags his feet heavily to his room. Chan looks back down at Hansol's closed eyes. His pupils stay still under his lids, occasionally they twitch, but Chan can't get any information out of a twitch under closed eyes. So he sits still and watches some more.

 

Soonyoung joins the younger on the small space left on the couch. Collectively, between the four in the room, no words are said. Not until Chan looks up and scans each person sitting with him. Minghao is unharmed. He's out of it, his eyes are staring into nothing. Jisoo has a cut on his cheekbone, but like Minghao, is unphased. Beside him, Soonyoung scrolls through his phone.

"What went wrong?"

"With who?" Soonyoung locks his phone and sits up.

"Everyone... Why is Seokmin dead? Why is there so much glass in Hansol's face? Why is Mingyu so drained?"

Junghan and Seungcheol make their way back in through the open door, Seokmin's and Wonwoo's dragged in bags behinds them.

"Chan, what's up with the questions again?" Junghan snaps, but Seungcheol behind him can't see the wink the elder sends towards Chan. An odd gesture coming from someone with a body bag in his hand.

Soonyoung ignores Junghan and rests his hand on his wrist. "Seokmin got shot driving, he didn't even make it to the warehouse. Hansol was in the passenger's seat, and like an idiot, didn't have his seat belt on. The car flipped like... Six times. He probably hit his head on the windshield a few times. Wonwoo was missing for a few minutes, but he always goes missing, so I wonder what happened to him."

"He was an idiot and somehow ended up vulnerable," Seungcheol interjects. "We must be up against organ harvesters."

Chan can only imagine what that means.

 

Oddly enough, after Hansol is carried into his own bed, everyone locks themselves into their rooms for the night, leaving Chan alone on the couch. It's too early for the amount of silence. Usually, it falls quiet around two or three am, but tonight, it's barely twelve thirty. Chan lays on his back and stares at the blank ceiling. It takes him twenty minutes, and about 311 sheep, but he eventually falls asleep. What feels like five minutes of sleep is actually three hours, so when Chan is rudely awakened by a pounding at the door, he's pretty fussy. He sits up and wipes his sleepy eyes, then checks his phone, realizing it's now going on three am. He's got a few choice words for Jisoo for coming home so late. Chan stretches and kicks his blanket off, standing to help Jisoo with whatever he's about to haul in. 

Then he realizes Jisoo is shut away in his room and didn't leave the apartment tonight. 

That's when he drops to the ground and crawls towards Seungcheol's door. By time he makes it there, the fidgeting of the doorknob is already growing louder. Chan stands up on the tips of his toes and skips the frame for a key, knowing Seungcheol's door is locked. All he can feel is dust, as expected. The youngest bites his bottom lip and turns to the door directly next to Seungcheol's, which belongs to Soonyoung. Chan peeks his head in the door and doesn't say anything. Soonyoung looks up from his phone and raises his eyebrows.

"You have a nightmare?"

"Someone's at the door," Chan points behind him.

"Who is it? Did you let them in?"

Chan looks back to the front door, where the jittery knob has now turned into someone slamming themselves into the door.

"They're about to let themselves in..."

"You don't know who it is?" Soonyoung throws his covers off and grabs the gun by his nightstand. He pulls the door out of Chan's grasp and pushes by him, pounding his fist on Seungcheol's door as he passes it. The older of the two checks the bullets in his gun and cocks it, holding it up at the front door. Chan is stuck between staring at Seungcheol's door and Soonyoung with his gun aimed at the front. The door eventually gives way and swings open. Soonyoung gives himself about five seconds to analyze the man's face before he fires a shot into his stomach. Chan's shoulders curl up to his ears as the shot rings through his ears.

"Who is that?"

"I don't know," Soonyoung shrugs, "That's why I shot him." The laugh he exhales with isn't unsettling at all.

By this time, Seungcheol pulls his door open and lets it slams against his wall.

"What the fuck is happening? Who's shooting who?"

Chan points at the other, who the eldest can't yet see. He makes his way to the living room, where Soonyoung is squatting behind the couch, near the man's body.  He's still alive, Soonyoung wouldn't kill him, not without Seungcheol's order. The guy on the floor is lucky to only get shot in the stomach. The eldest meets him by the front door and grabs this unknown man by his jaw. He grits his teeth and Seungcheol spits on him.

"Don't grit your teeth at me."

The man just moans and tries to struggle out of the elder's grip.

By now, there's about six boys out of their rooms and standing beside Chan. Not a single one of them speaks- they're all trying to hear what Seungcheol's got in mind. His hand shoots up from behind the couch and he snaps.

"Jisoo, come." Like he's some dog who listens to commands. But he listens. He has no other option. Jisoo crouches on the opposite side of the eldest and stares blankly as Seungcheol's hand.

"Choke him," It causes the man's eyes to widen and shoot towards Jisoo. They're trembling with fear, as expected. But it doesn't stop Jisoo from straddling his body and locking on to his throat. It takes a few minutes, and a lot of strength, but he eventually finishes the job.

"Chan," Seungcheol stands. "I hope you've got a strong stomach."   
Junghan causes the youngest to flinch when he puts his hands on his shoulders and leans in close to his ear.

"This is it, Chan. It's your big reveal."

Seungcheol stands, the grip he has on the dead man's hair is deadly. He drags the body around the seat and throws him across the table.

“This is what you're here for.”

“Body disposal?”

“Organ harvesting.”

Like Junghan said, this is it, Chan's big reveal. The reason he's here.

 

Chan doesn't get any sleep, seeing as there's a dead man with glossy pupils staring at him all night. Seungcheol said he had to remove a heart and both kidneys by morning. But it's growing close to six am and the only hole in this man's body is Soonyoung's bullet. Junghan left the black case on the ground beside the table so Chan didn't have to wake anyone for supplies. He pulls the collar of his shirt up to the bridge of his nose and exhales deeply. There's an abundant amount of scalpels wrapped together by a rubber band, so Chan starts there. He grabs the least threatening looking blade of them all. The knife isn't too thick, and it's just thin enough to not look intimidating. Chan dissected a frog once in high school, he hopes this is similar.

The first cut barely breaks skin. Chan has more pressure focused in his feet, holding him still, than he does pushing into this guy's stomach. The second cut goes a few inches deeper than the previous one. If Chan were to pinch a piece of skin near the cut and lift, he would see organs, but all he can see is the blood that just pools into the incision. He grabs some gauze from the kit and stuffs it in the cut.

Around six thirty, Chan thinks what he managed to pull out is one of the kidneys, but he can't tell. A door clicks open in the bedroom hallway, and out emerges Mingyu, blonde hair messy and still stuck together by dried blood. Chan watches, presumed kidney in hand, as Mingyu's feet pad across the living room and out the front door. Neither say a word to each other. He's probably going to get breakfast... with blood evident in his hair.

Around ten, Seungcheol is awake and sitting next to Chan with a small cooler in his lap. Turns out Chan mistook the supposed kidney for a gallbladder, but organs mean money, so Seungcheol takes it anyway. The elder shows him what organs are which and leaves the cooler beside Chan as he leaves for the bathroom.

It takes him about three hours to finish cutting arteries- now if they're done correctly, that's for someone else to find out. Seungcheol will just have to leave out that these organs may not function, and if they retaliate, he can just kill them and take their organs too, no big deal.

When Soonyoung calls for breakfast with his daily blanks fired into the ground, it's kind of depressing when only five boys exit their rooms. Seungcheol sits down last and skims the faces at the tables.

"Where's Mingyu?"   
"He left around six," Chan moves his eggs around on his plate.

"Where?" Seungcheol drops his fork.

Chan shrugs. Everyone watches as Seungcheol stands up from the table and leaves. Junghan excuses himself and quickly follows behind. Breakfast is finished with the sounds of forks and knives scraping plates to fill the silence.

 

Chan eventually makes his way back to his makeshift operating table in the living room. The heart is severed from the body, along with the kidneys, and the extra gallbladder. Now it's just some dead guy on their living room table. Everyone seems to have made it back into their rooms. Seungkwan in Hansol's instead of his own. Junghan returns through the front door without Seungcheol. His expression is flat and his face a tad paler than usual. He swallows a knot in his throat and sits down next to Chan. He stares at the open carcass in front of him.

"Mingyu's dead.” It’s brash. “Fair warning, Seungcheol is going to have you do some work on him."

There's a lot to process in that sentence. So Chan starts with the fact that Mingyu is dead.

"Wh-"   
"Don't ask. You'll see."

And like a cue, Seungcheol returns with Mingyu's bloody body limp over his shoulder. The few spots of dry blood in his hair don't compare to his face now. The blonde is now gone and all red. One side of his face is bruised and scraped beyond imagine. His mouth hangs open involuntarily. His opposite cheek is cut completely open. Seungcheol tosses his body on top of the bags containing Wonwoo and Seokmin and shuts the door behind him.

"He must've hit someone's balcony on the way down." Seungcheol wipes his hands on his black jeans. "He was in the back alley, barely missed the dumpsters. Thank God, imagine that mess."

Neither Chan nor Junghan respond.

"Junghan, you told him, right?"

"I said fair warning." He puts his hands up inches away from his chest.

"Okay, good. Because he'll do all three of 'em."

Chan's about ready to stab a scalpel through his eye.

 

With Mingyu, Chan starts a little after ten pm, after everyone has made it back into their room for the night. Seungcheol has a sticky note planted on the corner of the table.

' _ Mingyu: eyes, any unaffected skin, kidneys _ '.

Chan wants to hold off on peeling back Mingyu's eyelids for a bit. He contemplates getting it over with, so he grabs one of the retractors in the case and sets it on Mingyu's chest. He finds comfort in stitching the gash on the elder's cheek shut. Seungcheol will probably bitch and moan in the morning about how it wasn't necessary and something about wasting supplies, blut that's something he can live with. He takes a deep breath and pulls back Mingyu's right eyelid, sticking the metal retractor in and securing it. Tonight, much like last night, is a first. He's never removed an eye from someone's body, let alone peel their eyelid back. He's not sure if there's some sort of itinerary to follow, so he just goes for it. He slides his latex gloves on and pulls the table across the carpet, closer to the couch. He tries not to think of the first night when the elder make his snarky remarks, because somehow someway, it'll trigger some emotional downfall as Chan sticks two fingers behind Mingyu's eyeball.

 

The apartment is quiet until around five thirty. Soonyoung doesn't even shoot his gun. Instead there's a raspy scream coming from Hansol's room. It almost causes Chan to flinch his scalpel into Wonwoo's heart. But he reacts a bit slower than usual, mainly because he's been up for the last forty-six hours. The youngest drops his blade into Wonwoo's open chest and drags his feet towards Hansol's door. The screaming has now faded to a dull whimpering, but when Chan hesitantly opens the bedroom door, Hansol begins thrashing his body.

"Chan..." He grips the bed sheets that are now beginning to stain with blood. His breath is wheezy and raspy, almost unrecognizable.

Chan can only stare, and he doesn't mean to, but Hansol's cuts are splitting open again and he's drenched in sweat and Chan doesn't know anything about helping him. So he just leaves, rushed and hurried to Seungcheol's door where (unlike last night) Chan beats on the door until he opens it. What Chan wants to say is 'Hansol is awake... and he's in pain... and there's blood everywhere', but it comes out as some awkward jumbled mess of words. So when Hansol yells out again and Seungcheol hears it this time, the eldest just pushes by Chan and into the other's room. Chan hangs his head and sticks his head in Seungcheol's dark room.

"Junghan," He whispers.

There's a shift in the bed and a small hum in response.

"I'll be there in a minute," He doesn't move much after that.

Back in Hansol's room, Seungcheol is just finishing shoving a cloth in the younger's mouth- it's the only thing that can shut him up. The younger can't seem to regulate his own breathing, the same constant quick inhale, whining exhale. Chan, as usual, just stands and watches because it's all he can do. Unless Seungcheol has some sick twisted plan for Chan to cut out Hansol's heart while it's still struggling to beat, but beating nonetheless.

"Where the hell is Junghan?" The eldest pushes himself up off the ground. It's obvious that the question wasn't directed at Chan, but out into the open room instead.

"Watch him," Seungcheol pushes by him. He says watch him like Hansol is going to get up and walk himself to the hospital.

At this rate, he'd probably get there quicker if he did.

 

Junghan thinks he gets Hansol back to a stable heart rate. He can only tell by holding two fingers against the younger's throat. He apologizes after the anesthetic wears off and he has no more to give Hansol as he stitches a wound on the other's neck. But after an hour, Hansol has woken up everyone in the apartment and lost probably close to a pint of blood. It's stained on his sheets, and he's so delusional he asks himself if he’s really lost it when he's laying in pools of it. In which Seungcheol responds by commanding Seungkwan to grab him a cold washcloth and a new set of sheets.

It's quite a scene when Seungkwan begins to change Hansol's stained sheets and he has to lay in Seungcheol's arms while the other does. It's affectionate. Seungcheol holding Hansol's body. He has one arm draped loosely around the elder's neck while his other is trying it's hardest to meet it around the other side. Hansol soon forgets why he's raising his arm and gets lost in one of the veins sticking out of Seungcheol's neck. His finger traces it lightly. So light that it doesn't even have enough force to make the vein disappear back under his skin. Seungcheol can't even bring himself to tell the younger to stop. And when he puts him back down on the crisp new sheets, Hansol immediately curls up. He's pale. Sickly pale.

Junghan cups his hand on Hansol's forehead. The difference between their color is drastic. Hansol detects the heat and lets out a small exhale, trying to get as much of his body as close to the heat as possible.

Junghan looks up, particularly to Seungcheol. There’s a tinge of regret in his eyes and if the elder were to look hard enough, he’d notice. 

“I guess this is all we can do for tonight…”

As if that was their dismissal, they all pick themselves up off the ground and stand up straight. The room is empty now, besides Chan and Hansol. The clock beside the elder's bed reads 07:26. That strikes Chan's 48th hour awake.

When everyone clears the room, Chan remains in the dark corner of it, where his feet can't seem to move like everyone else's. In fact, he can't move anything. His eyes stayed glued to Hansol, who isn't moving. He's curled in the fetal position, hands tucked tightly under his chin. It's obvious he's cold, his body is shivering and once every few minutes, some part of his body will jerk. Chan blinks a few times and shakes his head as if he was bringing himself back to reality. He grabs a blanket draped over one of the chairs in the corner and throws it over Hansol. The elder doesn't open his eyes, but his mouth parts ever so slightly, and his jaw chatters audibly. He drags his hand across the bed and reaches for Chan's arm. He doesn't know if Hansol even knows who he's grabbing for. But he's scared, because he's never seen someone die in front of him. So Chan takes a few steps back. Hansol's hand slowly emerges from under the blanket and slowly searches for another body. His mouth is still open and his teeth are still clicking together, but this time he tries to speak. What comes out a slurred mess, Chan takes as a thank you for the blanket. And that's when he leaves. He opens the bedroom door to Mingyu's body still on the living room table. Retractor shoved deep into his eye socket, drape covering up to his neck. There's a peculiar smell coming from the room in front of him. There's a hint of blood, mixed with something he's never experienced before. Jisoo unlocks the door from the bathroom and emerges, noticing Chan gawking at Mingyu's body from afar.

"What is it?"

"What is what?" Chan hasn't looked at the elder.

"What's bothering you?" Jisoo finally steps up beside the younger. He looks at Chan, then in the same direction as him. "Oh,"

Oh is right. Oh is Mingyu's open body on the table. Oh is the stitches Chan neatly sutured across his cheekbone. Oh is the only fitting word for this situation.

"I think I cut his eye out wrong," Chan cups his chin. Jisoo doesn't know how to remove someone's eye, so he just shrugs.

"Why's that?"

"I've never cut someone's eye out of their head."

"Ditto."

The conversation ends there. Jisoo pats a hand on Chan's shoulder before he heads off back to his room for the two hours of sleep he has left. The youngest returns back to the couch and picks up his scalpel. He slides the retractor out of Mingyu's skull and notices the lids and the way they try to close. It doesn't close fully. There's a small gap in which Chan can see inside. Slightly, but it's still something that will stick with him. He tries to pinch them together but they continuously split back open. So Chan digs inside the med box for cotton. At least it's something white, so when he sees the crack out of the corner of his eye, he can pretend there's still an eye where one belongs. It doesn't help much when he's in the process of removing the remaining eye, but he'll try his hardest to not think about it.

 

Hansol isn't doing well. Again. This time Jihoon sits by his side and only Jihoon. His eyes keep rolling back in his head. Jihoon shakes him and for some reason it snaps Hansol out of what ever this is. He talks now, but in short phrases. 'Yes', 'No', 'Thanks,' like it's all he remembers. He still lays curled up on his side. The elder often rests the straw from a cup of water on Hansol's lips. Jihoon can't stress it enough. Hansol probably doesn't even remember what water even is. But Jihoon keeps insisting he drink it, and had he known the words, Hansol would ask why he can't taste anything.

Junghan makes his way in the room after a few hours of pure silence. He checks Hansol's pulse and tries to search what a normal heart rate is. Hospitals are out of the question, according to Seungcheol. So Hansol's doctor is Junghan and his phone, equipped with the newest medical technology, Google.

Hansol cups his hands around the side of his neck when Junghan's fingers leave his pulse point. His eyes shoot open for the first time in a few days. His entire body shoots upwards and he grabs onto Junghan's wrist. Both Jihoon and Junghan watch, equally shocked.

"I can't feel my pulse..." Hansol whines, his entire hand still cupped around the side of his throat. "I'm not dead... Am I? I can't be dead. You guys are here. Are you guys dead too?"

Jihoon raises his eyebrows and looks up at the elder from his chair. Junghan's caught up in the moment. He takes a breath and tries to respond, but he chokes on his words.

"You're gonna wish you were dead in a few minutes." Jihoon grabs Hansol's hands and puts some of his fingers down until his pointer and middle fingers are the only ones up. The elder pushes those fingers back into the pulse point and lets go, so Hansol can feel his pulse for himself.

"I'm alive."

"You're alive," Junghan whispers from behind Jihoon.

Jihoon sits back in his chair. He notices how Hansol didn't catch what he just said. Junghan watched some sort of documentary about this. The surge. When people wake up from their comas, all out of nowhere. They spend all this time like nothing ever happened, like they're totally healthy. But they die hours later. And Junghan can't help but tell Jihoon that this is what is happening. To the best of his knowledge (that two hour DVD he bought at the corner store), it's all he can think of. There's no way Hansol is fine. He's a dying boy. He knows it, Junghan knows it, Jihoon knows it.

Junghan grabs the younger's hand and rubs his thumb repeatedly over his palm.

"How're you feeling?"

Hansol looks at his palm for quite some time before he switches his sights to Junghan's eyes.

"It hurts to breathe a little. And I‘m tired, do I get to go to sleep soon?"

"You don't want to go to sleep Hansol." Junghan curls the younger's fingers into a fist and closes his own hand over the others. "It's not a good idea."

The affection ends quickly, as Seungcheol sticks his head in the room and calls for the two. Hansol tries to hold onto to Junghan's hand, but his strength is one of a toddler, and it slips right out of his grasp. He has no other choice but to lay back down and try not to do something. Something he already forgot. Was it important? He can't even remember that. And by the time Hansol realizes what he forgot, he's already back in the fetal position under his blankets, hands curled in their usual spot right under his chin.

 

"We've got organs to deliver." Eyes are all set on Chan, instead of Seungcheol. "Once Chan is finished with Seokmin's kidneys, we'll get them in a cooler and out the door." Which then causes everyone's sights to shift to Seokmin's open body on the table. There are faces of disgust and there are faces of sadness. Seungcheol's remains unaffected. He's debating on speaking again. It's obvious in the way he purses his lips when he looks at Junghan.

"Junghan," he speaks in his normal tone towards the other, it's new, and kind of weird. Junghan always gets a tone softer than usual. "I need you to come with us tonight. Chan, you too. We've gone down in bodies recently, we need everyone tonight."

"What about Hansol?" Junghan holds his own hand, rubbing his thumb over his open palm, like he did with the younger minutes ago.

"He'll be fine on his own for a few hours."

Junghan begins to pinch the skin of his palm. This is new. Going out with all of them. Soonyoung pulls him from his trance and slaps a handgun into his open palm.

"I know you've shot a gun before, here's one of your very own." He smiles. As usual, it's unsettling. But so is the feeling in the pit of Junghan's stomach right now. Between going out tonight, Hansol being left alone for more than five minutes, and now a gun, Junghan sits down and stares at the ground like he's just been told something life changing. He's never even seen a gun shot in person, Soonyoung just believes at this point, who hasn't seen one.

Chan suddenly raises a kidney into the air.

"Fucking finally!" He almost cheers, but remembers he's surrounded by people who personally knew Seokmin. So he settles with that, lowering the organ slowly with apologetic eyes. "Sorry." He set the last kidney in the cooler and shuts it.

 

It's crammed now that they only have two cars. With only nine of them left, Chan guesses it could've been worse, but decides to keep that to himself. He and Jisoo sit in the back seat together, both holding coolers in their laps. There's a faint smell of blood coming from the trunk behind them. Seungcheol probably forgot Seokmin laid back there for an hour, staining his interior. But they keep that unsaid as well.

Junghan is sitting in the passenger's seat, next to Seungcheol. It's obvious Junghan is nervous. But so is Chan. They both haven't experienced this firsthand. Seungcheol sneaks a hand onto the other's knee and tries to comfort him.

When Jisoo shakes Chan's shoulder lightly and wakes him, the younger notices there's no city lights anymore. Outside the window there are giant warehouses and very few lights. Whoever is driving the car behind them also has their headlights off. Chan yawns and wipes his tired eyes. It's quiet, and he doesn't want to ruin that.

Seungcheol pulls his car over to the side, and the one following does the same. Chan pushes the seat in front of him forward and exits the car, waiting for Jisoo behind him.

"Just follow Seungcheol," Jisoo whispers in his ear.

Everyone groups up, Chan and Junghan stay close together. Inexperienced and confused, they stick towards the middle of the group. Not leading, but also not getting left behind, because that's the last thing they want to do right now. Seungcheol pulls out his phone and constantly switches between the screen and the building numbers. He mutters something about warehouse six, and then points ahead. It stays quiet.

 

Seungcheol doesn't knock, he just pushes open the metal door. There's plenty of wooden boxes stacked in rows on end. They can only guess organs, because what else would they be full of? Seungcheol holds a hand up and everyone stops. He peeks down each row and stops around three rows down. There's footsteps approaching him; it echos throughout the warehouse. This man shakes Seungcheol's hand and immediately notices the group of boys behind him.

"Who're they?"

"My boys, I told you about them,"

The man just scoffs quietly, as if they were low class scum of the streets. Seungcheol clears his throat, pulling his attention back to him.

"Money first, I want to know you're not cheating me out."

The man shakes his head in response.

"Fuck off. We didn't spend time cutting out organs to be cheated out of your money," Seungcheol spits, almost lunging for him.

Chan definitely doesn't pipe in stating that he did all the work here. He stops himself by averting his eyes somewhere else. Which happens to be on the next level above. He's not sure what he sees, it's dark up there, but something's moving. Chan nudges Junghan next to him, causing the elder to flinch. He's never seen Seungcheol this heated over something, but when Chan grabs his attention, Junghan follows his line of sight to the second floor. Junghan sees it clearly. He can see the gun in the arms of a man watching diligently. He doesn't want to, but Junghan turns around and sees another. Same gun, same stance.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes and crooks his fingers towards Chan and Jisoo, the two holding coolers.

"They're good organs," Seungcheol takes both coolers and sets one down. Opening one, he scoops a heart out. It's got a small mark on it, indicating who it belonged to.

"This one was a smoker. Not sure how much you knock off for the heart of a smoker."

"How old?"

"Nineteen," Seungcheol sighs, cradling the heart.

"Still young, it'll be fine. You know the cause of death?"

Seungcheol wants to say a sixty-three floor fall, it's on the tip of his tongue, but he just looks down at the heart and shakes his head no.

"John Doe at a morgue."

There's a harsh silence from the group behind Seungcheol. Mingyu was no John Doe, and they'll let that be known when they get home.

The man next to Seungcheol reaches behind one of the boxes beside him and brings out a gym bag. It's packed tight, but Seungcheol doesn't trust it. He flicks his hand in the man's direction and shoos him over. The eldest pulls the zipper open and grabs a few stacks of money. He inspects it closely, shuffling through it like a deck of cards. The first wad is all hundreds, as well as the second and the rest of the top rows. But the stacks below them are all small bills. Ones, fives and tens. And that's not what Seungcheol was promised. He scoffs and tosses a the few stacks of hundreds back in the bag. Turning to the stranger, he sneers. He stares for a few minutes before he grabs his gun tucked tightly under his belt.

Chan and Junghan, still looking up, watch the men above jerk forward. Unlike Seungcheol, they don't hesitate, and they fire.

Soonyoung is the first of Seungcheol's boys to fire, and it's directly between the eyes of the man next to the eldest. It takes Junghan a minute to finally look down. He's finally seen a gun fired with his own eyes. 

The first shot he’s ever seen is fired directly into Seungcheol’s throat. The eldest has his back towards the boys, but all Junghan can notice is the way he’s trying to catch his breath. 

 

Junghan’s mouth is slightly parted and he's holding his breath. It's never hurt before, holding his breath. But now there's some sort of ripping sensation in the back of his throat and his lungs are tight. He just blinks, and as Soonyoung and the few select others with guns are trying to shoot, Junghan walks, oblivious to the bullets flying around him. He drops hard on his knees, but they're numb. His whole body is. He can't even feel Seungcheol's jacket against his hands when he pulls the elder into his lap. There's a bullet hole, and it's deep, and it's bleeding. Junghan's hair drapes over his face as he looks down. There's bullets ricocheting inches from Junghan, but he doesn't even realize. Not even when a second one hits Seungcheol's limp leg, causing him to try and yell out in pain, which just results in more blood pumping out of the wound in his throat. He just holds the elder's hair out of his face. His tears fall onto Seungcheol's face, a few making their way down his face and mixing with the blood spilling from the wound. 

That’s when Seungcheol releases one of his hands from his throat and grabs tight onto Junghan’s wrist. At this point, Seungcheol is in so much pain, he probably doesn’t know who Junghan even is, but Junghan doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know that Seungcheol’s bloody hand is grabbing on as a plea for help. Junghan thinks it’s because he loves him.

His sight is blurry now, it's clouded by his tears. And as he tries to look into Seungcheol's draining eyes, he loses himself. He strokes the stray hairs off the elder's forehead. Everything is quiet. The quietest it's been in years.

Soonyoung places a hand on Junghan's shoulder. "Junghan," He soothes. "Are you okay?"

The answer is no. Obviously. But all he wants to know is if physically, is Junghan okay? He gets no response. Except for when he tries to pull the elder up.

"We need to get out of here, Junghan,"

In which he responds by swatting Soonyoung's hand away and pulls his gun on the younger. It takes a few seconds for Junghan to look up at Soonyoung, but when he does, there's no looking away.

"We're not leaving," His voice is small, but it's harsh, which scares Chan from behind who can only imagine pure when he thinks of the elder.

By this time, Seungcheol’s grasp on Junghan’s wrist has faded, and his hand slips off. The blood is still pooling from the wound, but there’s no sign of life in Seungcheol’s eyes.

Soonyoung tucks his own gun away and raises his open palms. Slowly, he crouches down, watching as Junghan's gun follows. His lip quivers when Soonyoung grabs the barrel of the pistol and pulls it from the other's grasp. His hand is trembling, and his grip on the gun is loose and not threatening in the slightest.

"We need to go, Junghan," He repeats, this time with more authority to his voice.

And Junghan sobs. He cries out and hunches over Seungcheol's body. He tries his hardest to pull him closer in his lap, but Junghan can only lift so much. He struggles to wrap his arms sloppily around his torso and pull the both of them up. Soonyoung helps hold onto Seungcheol's body because he's afraid that Junghan will drop him and no one will ever hear the end of it.

When they all situate in the car, Junghan gets away with cradling Seungcheol's discoloring body in his arms the whole way home. No one argues it. Not now. Not tomorrow at breakfast when Junghan barks at Jihoon for sitting in Seungcheol's old spot.

It's a new adjustment, not just for Junghan, but everyone.

 

"Jihoon," Seungkwan doesn't know who else to go to now, but urgent matters have to go somewhere, and Seungkwan just elected Jihoon.

The elder is lying in his bed, back towards Seungkwan. He hums sleepily.

"Hansol's not breathing..."

Jihoon throws his blanket off and treads shirtless out his bedroom door.

Seungkwan wasn't lying. Hansol's not breathing. He tells the younger not to make a big scene because it's the last thing anyone needs at this point. But this is a big deal. Junghan knew it was a bad idea to leave Hansol alone, and it's all Seungkwan can think about. That, and if Hansol knew he was alone when he died. If he was awake and aware he was dying. Who Hansol probably called out for; if he knew they weren’t there. But no one can, or will, tell Junghan. The last thing he needs to know is that he was right, it'll go to his head and he'll go power crazy.

Seungkwan puts the bed sheet over the younger's hand before he lays his own on top of it. He doesn't want to feel how cold he is, he doesn't want to know how long Hansol has been lying here. Seungkwan purses his lips. When Jihoon leaves, the younger apologizes to the empty room.

 

Junghan doesn't hear about Hansol's passing until a few days later, when they try to sneak his body out of his room. He's starting to turn inhumane colors. His sutures are all types of bruising yellows and purples, while his skin is a light green. Junghan questions where they're going with his body, like they're pranking Hansol by moving him to a new bed on the roof. Junghan just can’t seem to grasp the fact that death is real, and it's happening rapidly. So Jisoo and Jihoon move Hansol back into his bed until Junghan is asleep and Chan waits outside his door watching. 

The only thing they can think of is a river. A river to dispose of Hansol's body. It’s natural for hiding a body, but they need to go deeper. Jihoon suggests the ocean, that Hansol always liked the ocean. Jisoo doesn't know how accurate that is, but if it's the ocean he wants, the ocean he shall get.

 

That night, Minghao picks up a cigarette. He had swore to Junhui he'd never even touch another one ever again. But Junhui isn't here and all Minghao can think about is where he left his lighter the last time he smoked. Maybe in his old jacket pocket hanging on the back of the his door. What he can remember is the first night Chan arrived, and when Mingyu tried to say that he ate his cigarettes. 

Minghao bites it between his teeth and stares down at the carton in his hand. Oddly enough there's a picture on the face of the label, and as big as they can possibly be, there are bold red letters reading  ‘MISSING’  right above the picture. Now, to say it's Chan could be a stretch, but it could be his twin brother if he had one. Minghao pats his pant pockets, pulls out a matchbox and strikes a single stick, cupping the flame around his mouth. There's a light snow falling, and when he ashes the stick on the balcony railing, he tries to watch them fall the entire sixty-three stories without losing the it in the snow. His bedroom light flicks on behind him and he tries to hide his cigarette under his jacket without burning him or the cloth. 

It's Junhui. He, himself hasn't come to terms with losing Seungcheol just yet. He joins Minghao on the patio in just his pajama pants and slippers. The younger immediately throws his jacket around Junhui’s naked chest, not caring about exposing his cigarette. It's not like Junhui will yell at him, he knows that Minghao’s promises have a limit, and limits are being pushed.

He doesn’t want to talk about Seungcheol. Or any of the events that took place within the past two nights. So when Junhui pinches the cigarette out from between Minghao’s fingers and takes a drag of it, the younger pulls out the carton from his back pocket.

“Do you think I should tell him?”

Junhui exhales the smoke into the air, unaware of the picture on the pack.

“Tell who, what?” He takes another hit and gives the stick back to Minghao.

“Tell Chan,” Minghao trades the carton for his cigarette. “Do you think he knows he’s missing? Do missing people know they’re missing?” It’s like it’s some mind game that’ll make someone sit and think for awhile.

Junhui inspects the box and cocks an eyebrow.

“He doesn't look that young. Do you think Seungcheol kidnapped him off the street?” The mention of the elders name is taboo and it makes the smoke burn in Junhui’s throat.

"Tell him," Junhui adds. "Maybe he'll go home."

"I want to go home." Minghao steals his cigarettes back and pockets them.

 

No one says anything about Junghan keeping Seungcheol’s body in their room. No one has the heart, or a stomach strong enough to go in there and tell him it’s time to say goodbye. Jihoon maybe, but even then there’s hesitation. In the next room over, Soonyoung keeps his window open. It’s not that he wants to, it’s at the point where he has to now. Jisoo even contemplates opening his window too - and he's on the complete opposite side of the apartment.

No one knows why Seungcheol’s body is still in the building. They don’t even know if Junghan knows why. But when Jihoon knocks lightly on the elder’s door, he keeps Soonyoung and Jisoo close behind. Not that Junghan will fight them, but he probably won't let go easily. 

It's expected, but there's no answer. 

Jihoon gags under his shirt as he pushes open the door. Jisoo and Soonyoung make it by just holding their breath. But when it comes to catching their breath again, they can taste it. Whatever smell is radiating from the room. What they see isn't as bad as they expected. Seungcheol's body is in bed, sprawled under the covers. Junghan, on the other hand, is shuffling through the closet, mainly the safe behind Seungcheol's old suits. Jisoo takes the chance while Junghan is distracted to cover Seungcheol's body with the bed sheet.

"Junghan," Jihoon stands close to the closet, watching as the eldest sifts through Seungcheol's money and belongings.

"We need to go, don't we?" He stops dead in his tracks, his doe eyes now wide and worried.

"What?" Jihoon tries to grab Junghan's shoulder. Jisoo and Soonyoung share concerning looks towards each other.

Junghan turns around with two stacks of money in one hand, and a bag of cocaine in the other. His eyes looks sunken in, his bags are a deep purple. His hands begin to shake, just as they did the night he held Seungcheol in his lap. The fistfuls of money start to fall to the ground and the pressure the elder's nails are putting tears in the bag. Slowly, the powder starts to spill from the crescent shape cuts. His teeth grit and he drops everything. The plastic bursts when it hits the ground.

Jihoon has never seen a grown man wrap around his leg until now, at this very moment, when Junghan grips his calf. His cheek is pressed harshly against Jihoon's knee and he's heaving. The younger cups his hand around the back of the elder's head and begins to brush his thumb slowly across the roots of Junghan’s hair. He looks over his shoulder and motions for Jisoo and Soonyoung to get Seungcheol the hell out of the room.

 

It's decided, that night, after Junghan goes to bed where Seungcheol's body is to go. Junhui suggests burning it in the countryside. Soonyoung recommends throwing it down the elevator shaft and leaving it for someone else to take care of. But it's settled by Jihoon, and Seungcheol will be properly buried and he'll take care of it on his own. Once everyone disperses, Junhui and Minghao keep Chan for a few minutes. Minghao debates internally if he wants to show the youngest his carton of cigarettes, but Junhui kind of forces him when he kicks his shin.

Minghao brushes off the sting and pulls the box out from his back pocket, tossing it on the table. A few of the sticks spill out, but no one minds them. All Chan can look at is the big bold letters, and his old high school picture. He doesn't grab the box, he just stares at them.

"How old are these?" Chan focuses on Minghao.

"Bought em' two nights ago."

There's a heavy sigh before Chan scoops the box into his hand. He notes how healthy he used to look when the picture was taken. After a month or so of living at the apartment, he's got the stress lines and bags of someone way beyond his time. But then he creases his brows, he clears his throat and almost crumples the carton.

"Don't you dare call them."

Minghao's open palms shoot up to his chest, "Tone it down a notch, I have no reason to."

"We just want you to know that you can always go home. Anytime, now that Seungcheol's gone." Junhui pipes in with a motherly tone.

"I don't want to go home,"

"Bite your tongue, kid," Jisoo is standing against the doorway, arms crossed against his chest.

 

Days go by and no one really knows what they're doing anymore. Half of the rooms, full not even a month ago, now sit just as their owner once kept them. Wonwoo’s room still has old Playboy magazines tucked under the pillows. Hansol’s is still stained with the strong smell of copper and a tinge of his old cologne. No one has been in Seokmin’s room yet. There's a weird draft coming from under the door. So they just assume it's how he left it.

Jihoon watches Chan sleep on the couch. It's the first time in awhile that the youngest got some sleep. It's roughly six in the morning, an hour before Soonyoung fires his daily alarm clock. Jihoon is debating on which room to give Chan. Probably not Hansol's. That room needs to be locked off from everyone and everything that enters this apartment. Jihoon would say the same about Junghan and Seungcheol’s room, but the elder still resides there, in the putrid room where Seungcheol's body laid for 3 days. Maybe they should lock Junghan in there. He probably wouldn't even notice. 

Seokmin’s room seems like the best fit for Chan, even though Jihoon doesn't even know what condition it's in. But it's better than the couch, so Jihoon tries his hardest to scoop Chan off the couch. They're roughly the same size, but the elder will admit, Chan’s definitely more muscular. Chan stirs in Jihoon’s arms, but stays asleep. He pushes his nose into Jihoon's chest and begins to snore slightly again.

Jihoon quietly kicks open Seokmin's bedroom door and sets Chan on the bed, where the youngest immediately grabs the blanket and shields himself from the cold. Seokmin's window is open, and it must've been open the past few weeks. There's small icicles forming on the upper ledge of the frame and some broken on the sill. Jihoon peeks out the window and onto the balcony coming from Junhui’s room. 

There's someone curled up on the terrace. Their hood is covering their head, but it doesn't keep Jihoon from hearing the slight weeping. He whistles quietly, trying to grab their attention, whoever it is. What he doesn't expect is Junghan immediately pointing a gun at him. The elder's hood falls down slightly, but he doesn't seem to notice, or even care. Jihoon ducks and pulls his head back inside. He purses his lips and shuts the window. But as soon as he locks it, a bullet cracks the glass. Chan instantly sits up and blinks repeatedly. He notes Jihoon crouched down on the floor with his hand tucked in his lap.

"What the hell was that?" Chan throws his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Junghan," Jihoon stands back up, blood prominent on his hand. There's a through and through bullet wound leaking into the his lap.

Chan kicks his blanket off his body and immediately heads for the bedroom door. The hallway is empty, but the bathroom light is on at the end of the hall. Chan looks over his shoulder for something in the room and reaches for the alarm clock on the bedside table. He tosses it up and down in his hand to test the weight. Jihoon is too busy tending to his wound to watch the youngest chuck the clock down the hall and at the bathroom door. It breaks in a few places, but all he needed it for was to get the attention of whoever is occupying the bathroom. Which turns out to be Junhui, Soonyoung, and Minghao. Their heads stack on top of each other when they crack the door open. Minghao is crying, Junhui looks dazed, and Soonyoung looks tired, like they just dragged him out of bed. So no one can really tell what's happening in there, but Chan whispers down the hall.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Junhui's and Minghao's heads disappear behind the door, leaving Soonyoung's tired eyes the only thing Chan sees.

"He kicked them out," He yawns. "Something about him owning this place now and they had to listen," Soonyoung murmurs back.

Chan holds his pointer finger out the door and turns back to Jihoon, who's now sitting on the unmade bed trying to wrap the bed sheet around his hand.

"Junghan's gone crazy,"

"And?" Jihoon doesn't look up from his hand. He knew Junghan was in a downward spiral.

Chan's mind goes blank.  _ And what? _

"Who's out there?" Jihoon pulls him from his trance.

The youngest shakes his head. "Soonyoung... with Junhui and Minghao. They're in the bathroom, Minghao's crying."

Jihoon grits his teeth, whether it be in pain of frustration, Chan's not sure. But when he throws the door open and marches down the hallway clutching his hand, Chan seems to get the hint this will end soon. That Jihoon has replaced Seungcheol. And that's not how Junghan wants it to go.

The spark of a shot lights up Junhui's room. It disintegrates the patio door window, and by time Chan hears the sound of splinters of glass fall to the ground, Jihoon is already slumped against the wall with his hands gripping tightly at his ribs. Chan and Soonyoung both share blank stares across the hallway. The elder of the two inhales deeply before quietly slipping past the door and shutting Minghao and Junhui in behind him. He's got both hands tucked at his side, gripping tightly at his pistol. He motions for Jihoon to crawl back to Chan, which is asking a lot for someone who's gotten shot twice in the past ten minutes.

Soonyoung hides his gun behind his back when he enters the bedroom and sees Junghan curled up on the balcony, pistol still pointed at the door. Soonyoung tucks his gun under his pant line and holds his palms faced out, a sign of comfort to Junghan. The elder keeps his gun raised, but moves his finger away from the trigger.

"You shot Jihoon, Junghan."

And like Junghan had taken on some sort of second identity, he rolls his eyes. "He's trying to take Seungcheol's spot. He got Seungcheol killed."

To Soonyoung's best knowledge, which is pretty keen, Jihoon played no part in the drop off the night Seungcheol was killed. He drove, that was it. But Soonyoung plays along.

"We can take care of that, just come back inside. It's too early to be awake, and too cold to even be outside." He extends a hand to Junghan's level and slowly wraps his fingers around the elder's wrist, helping him up.

By time Soonyoung coaxes him back inside, there's a trail of blood smearing down the hallway into Chan's room. The light emits under the crack of the door, making the stain evident. But Soonyoung pulls Junghan into the kitchen and begins breakfast for the day. It may be two hours early, but as long as it keeps the elder distracted. Junghan sits in his normal spot, the chair to the right of the head of the table, which was Seungcheol's old spot. He's quiet, and fairly normal until Soonyoung suggests he set the table, in which he skips over Seokmin, Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Hansol's old chairs, leaving them plateless. But Seungcheol's plate is set in it's rightful spot. Fork, knife, and all. Like Seungcheol would wake up this morning and join them just like he did days before.

Soonyoung personally wakes everyone up for breakfast, just so he can tell everyone not to mention the plate full of food at the head of the table. He tries to push open the bathroom door, but he finds himself locked out. He knocks a few times before there's a noise from the other side. It seems that Junhui and Minghao fell asleep in the bathroom last night. Soonyoung gets up on his tiptoes and skims the door frame for the bathroom door key, which is covered in dust and clumps of lint, but it's there. 

Last night there was no blood. To his knowledge, at least. But when he opens the door and finds Minghao laying curled under Junhui's arm in the bathtub, there's blood smeared on the porcelain. He quickly shuts the door behind him and crouches next to the tub and shakes Minghao, who immediately wakes up, but remembers Junhui below him, so he doesn't make too much movement.

"Where's this blood from?" Soonyoung manages to sound both panicked, yet soothing at the same time.

Minghao knits hit brows together before he instantly sits up, not even minding Junhui now. The elder's black shirt shows no signs of blood to the eye, but to the touch, it's soaked. And when Minghao moves enough to get Junhui's shirt up to his mid stomach to bear a deep knife wound, Soonyoung's head falls into his hands. He quickly cards his fingers through his hair and grabs a hold of Junhui's jaw. He positions it straight and snaps a few inches away from his face.

"Junhui," he whispers. "Please, Junhui."

But Junhui doesn't respond, or open his eyes, or breathe, for that matter. Minghao scatters out of the tub. The back of his plain white t-shirt is coated with blood, as he can see in the mirror. He cups his own face and rubs his crusted eyes. Soonyoung grabs the younger by his shoulders and pushes him back down to the ground with his back against the edge of the tub.

"You're going to go to breakfast, you're going to keep yourself composed, and you're not going to make a scene."

Minghao just stares. Soonyoung thinks he's listening, but he can't even remember to take a breath after he exhales. Junhui didn't even say anything. He didn’t want to make a scene. He just let it happen. Maybe that's why he looked so out of it last night.

Surprisingly, Jihoon is the last one to make it to breakfast this morning. He's limping and pale in the face, but alive, nonetheless. He mistakenly grabs the back of Seungcheol's chair for balance, which results in a stern look and a "Don't you fucking dare," from Junghan. The eldest doesn't even notice the bandage on his hand, or the limp to his chair, even though he can't take his smoldering glare off of him.

Everyone tries to finish their breakfast as soon as possible. It's gotten to the point where, if they had the choice, half of them wouldn't even show up anymore. But Junghan is in charge now, and Junghan says there is breakfast, _ so there is a breakfast. _

Jisoo spends the afternoon bleaching the bathroom with Soonyoung. Junghan catches whiff of the smell and questions why they're cleaning so deeply. Soonyoung covers for Jisoo's stupid off guard look and says that Junhui got sick last night, and he went to the doctor this morning. But in reality, Junhui's body is down in the dumpster, quite possibly getting picked up right now. Junghan gives them a green light to continue.

 

Jihoon is beginning to get irritated with the bullet wound a few inches under his right ribs. He's emptied a half of a bottle of peroxide on it and bandaged himself up as best as he could, but he still can't take in the fact that there's a bullet inside of him. He locks his door for security reasons now, seeing as Junghan claims he killed Seungcheol and was taking order of the rest of them. Chan will often slide papers under the door telling the elder what Junghan is up to. Today the note says " _ He's asked about you three times already. _ " Then there's a count of tally's beside it counting up to six, which could possibly mean there's really nine times Junghan had questioned Jihoon's whereabouts today alone. The second note says " _ Junghan's making me help him clear out the safe in Seungcheol's closet... _ " And that's the last he hears from Chan for awhile.

While Chan stands there in Seungcheol's room, he remembers quite frankly that Seungcheol said he wasn't allowed in here. He never said Junghan could let him in, but he doesn't think about it much deeper than that. It starts with Junghan throwing stack of hundreds at Chan, not caring how good his aim is. Chan tosses what he catches on the bed and moves this like an assembly line. At one point, Chan flinches when guns and pocket knifes are getting hurled his way. One of them clogs Chan's line process and makes him stare, this blade obviously is still wet with blood. He doesn't know if Junghan noticed that, or if he just refused to mention it. So Chan pockets it when the elder turns back to the safe to start grabbing bags of tightly sealed drugs.

Chan slides his last note of the night under the door after Junghan dismisses him from his room.

" _ I have a bloody knife. I think Junghan hurt someone. _ "

The door immediately unlocks and Chan is pulled inside. He pulls the folded blade out of his back pocket and hands it over to Jihoon.

"Junhui," Jihoon whispers. "Junghan hurt Junhui." He says it like it's not obvious, but Chan didn't even know Junhui was hurt, let alone dead. Not till now. The room lays silent while Jihoon sits on his bed and examines the knife, until Chan almost ducks for cover when he hears Junghan's raspy voice ringing through the bedroom hallway. And when Chan leaves Jihoon's room, Junghan meets him face to face. The youngest freezes in his tracks, keeping his hand tight on Jihoon's doorknob behind him. He lets go when he can feel it lock, just so he knows Jihoon is safe.

"What are you doing in there, you fucking rat. You're not trying to help him take Seungcheol's spot, are you?" Chan feels like he got caught sneaking around school during class hours. Like nothing serious will happen unless he's caught once again. But people don't get murdered in school for snooping around. Here, you do. So Chan prays the only prayer he knows when Junghan's svelte fingers wrap tightly around his airway and push him harshly against Jihoon's bedroom door.

"Struggle. Jihoon will hear it." Junghan grits his teeth, his nails puncturing delicate skin on Chan's throat. He doesn't comply with Junghan's demands until he can't help himself anymore. His grip returns to the doorknob and it shakes desperately. Chan shuts his eyes as his vision begins to blur, but he drops to the ground when Jisoo pulls the Junghan off the youngest.

"We know you're upset, Junghan. We all are, but we're not out to get you and we're not out to choke Chan." That seems to solve it. Junghan's doe eyes return once again and he apologizes to Jisoo as he returns to his room.

"Sleep in my bed tonight, kid. Who knows if he'll do it again."

And what Chan thinks is again is another round of gasping for breath and having to wear bandages on his neck from the cuts Junghan's nails caused. Jisoo's definition of again is a stab to the stomach and bleeding out in the bathroom, but he'll let Chan's imagination wonder.

In the morning, it's evident that Chan's bedroom door was opened during the night because it wasn't shut behind whoever opened it. Jisoo and Chan both know who exactly opened it, but they don't confront the eldest about it. Jihoon fakes a sickness and skips breakfast this morning. Junghan brings a plate to the younger's room, but instead of knocking and handing it to him, Junghan smashes the plate against the door and leaves the food crumbled on the ground in front of it. Chan sneaks a box of cereal from the cupboard up his sweatshirt to Jihoon's room and writes, " _ Let me know when you're running low, _ " on it in a black permanent marker. 

Later that night, when everyone is sleeping, Chan makes his way into Jihoon's room for the first time today.

"He won't let me breathe now, literally." Chan grabs the neckline of his hoodie and bears his band-aid littered neck. Jihoon laughs. It's a bit wheezy, but he thinks that's normal. He lifts his own sweater and shows his makeshift chest bandage that wraps around his shoulder and down under the opposite side near the bottom of his ribs.

"I think I've got you beat."

A competition of who can piss Junghan off more, where the winner is determined by who makes it out more bruised and battered.

There's hushed whispering outside of Jihoon's door, causing Chan to freeze and stare at the entrance.

"Closet," Jihoon shoos his wounded hand in the direction of Chan's hiding spot.

The whispering subsides, and whoever is outside the door tries the knob a few times before cutting into a deep silence. Jihoon's eyebrows curl upward as he watches the door quizzically. Chan peeks through the slits of the closet door just in time to see a foot kick through the door, causing him to back up into Jihoon's thick coats. It's a small foot, it can't be Junghan's, but who else would kick through a door.

"Again," It's audible through the newly made hole in the door. That was Junghan.

This time there's a fist through the door. There's a whine that follows after but Junghan instantly barks for him to shut up. The hand waves around and tries to find a grip on the doorknob. It pops the lock open and on the other side of the door, Seungkwan pulls his hand back through the door. Behind him stands Junghan with his gun pointed at the back of the younger's head. The tears on Seungkwan's face are evident. He's trying to keep his chin high but he can't help but struggle to catch his breath and keep calm. Jihoon watches closely as Junghan pushes him forward with the tip of his gun.

"Where is he?" It's obvious Chan is here. Jihoon's desk chair is pulled out and facing his bed. So when he refuses to respond, Junghan laughs. "Do you think I'm stupid? He can't go many places..."

Junghan's fingers wrap around the closet door and almost rip it off the hinges, exposing Chan, hiding behind layers of jackets and shirts.

"You must think I'm a fucking idiot. Seungkwan, bring Jihoon to the living room." While Junghan grabs a fistful of Chan's hair from between hangers, Seungkwan gently stands the elder up off his bed and doesn't touch him as he escorts him to the living room.

There's quite a noise coming from the hallway as all four boys enter the empty living room. Like Junghan planned all of this. Something about tonight felt right, so he pushed all of the furniture out of the way, just so there's a rug in the center of the room.

"Center," Junghan demands, like any of them know what that even means. Not even Seungkwan knows what to do. When nobody moves, Junghan grabs a fistful of Jihoon's hair to match Chan's and smashes their foreheads together in the center of the living room rug.

"Stay just like this," Junghan is a bit too close to their faces for comfort, but comfort was a long forgotten term in this apartment. Especially when Jisoo, Soonyoung, and Minghao emerge from their rooms. They watch by peeking around the doorway, not fully making anyone aware of their presence.

"Stay still," Junghan coos, stroking the backs of both boy's heads.

Chan and Jihoon can't seem to look anywhere else but each other's eyes. The eldest backs up a foot or two and crosses his arms, placing the tip of his gun on the part of his lips, as if it were to replace his finger like he was thinking.

"Who should it be, Seungkwan?" Junghan cocks his head while Seungkwan just fidgets uncomfortably. When Junghan finally looks at the younger, all he can do is shake his head. He has no answer to the question.

"I'll make you chose then," The smile is sinister as Junghan slaps his gun down in Seungkwan's hand. "Do it from behind. Maybe it'll snag em' both."

Suddenly, Chan's first night here means nothing to Seungkwan. There's not a single reason why he should shoot Chan. Or Jihoon. But he can hear Junghan behind him mimicking the seconds hand of a clock and it makes him lose his train of thought. Junghan grabs onto Seungkwan's shoulders and jerks his body behind Chan's to pull his arms forward, locking them in place.

"You took too long," Junghan rests his head on the younger's shoulder. "I choose Chan. Pull it."

Seungkwan's finger is on the trigger, but he hesitates. His index finger is trembling, and the feeling of his heart pounding in his ear doesn't make this situation any better.

Junghan's hand snakes it's way down to meet Seungkwan's finger on the trigger.

"What's taking you so long now? All you have to do is bend your finger, like this."

And just like that, both Chan and Jihoon drop to the ground, bodies overlapping each other.

"Simple," Junghan takes his gun back from the younger and makes his way to his bedroom, patting Jisoo on the back as he passes him.

"Get that cleaned up for me."

 

Jihoon's body is rolled up in the rug and thrown away in the next night's trash. No one can seem to think of what to do with Chan's body. They've run out of options after having to get rid of so many. Jisoo sighs and has Soonyoung carry his body to the elevator at the end of the hall. 

Minghao runs out with a crumpled piece of cardboard in his hand. He searches for pockets in the youngest's shirt, but fails to find one. So he just grabs his hand and squeezes the carton tight under his fingers. Chan's hands obviously unfold slowly, but as long as it's there, someone can tell Chan's parents that he's dead.

It would go against Chan's wishes of calling the number, but Chan only told Minghao not to call.

**Author's Note:**

> junhui didnt need to die i know and im sorry


End file.
